“Stay,” he said, smiling a little.  “Before you go I must have a hostage from my wild viking, lest he be, as it were, let loose on the high seas where I cannot reach him.”

Then he laughed, at my puzzled face, I suppose, and I saw that he had some jest that pleased him.

“What hostage can I give, lord king?” I said.  “Shall I leave Harek and his harp with you?”

“Harek would charm our ears, and would escape,” Alfred answered.  “Nay, but I must give you house and lands for a home, and therein you shall leave a fair wife, whose loneliness will bring you ashore now and then.”

I thought there was more to come, and I liked not this at all, for it went too closely with my fears of what might be.  So I bowed, and answered nothing as yet, while he looked laughingly at me.

“Why,” he cried, “half my thanes would have gone wild with joy if I had promised them either half of what I have said I would give to you.  Are you so fond of the longships and the restless waves that you will not be bound to the shore?”

“Nay, my king,” I said; “but I cannot yet rightly understand all that you mean for me.”

“Well, it means that I must find you a rich wife, as I think I can.  What say you to that fair lady of Exeter town and Taunton—­Odda’s daughter, Etheldreda?”

“My king,” I answered, somewhat over-gladly maybe, “Ethelnoth of Somerset, my good comrade, might have some grudge against me if I cast favouring eyes in that direction.  Let this bide for a little while, I pray you, King Alfred.  Yet I would not have you think me ungrateful, for indeed I know well what kindness is in your thought for me.”

“Nay, but I have it in my mind that you were fond of going to Taunton not so long since, and one might well think that a maiden’s hair drew you.  Well, if Ethelnoth has outdone you there, I am sorry for your sake, not his.  Cheer up, nevertheless.  There are more maidens and well dowered in our broad Wessex coasts, and I am minded to see how far you will obey your new overlord.”

“This is great kindness, King Alfred,” I answered; “but we Northmen are apt to keep some matters wherein to prove our freedom.  I pray you not to press this on me.”

“Faith,” he said, as if to himself, “this viking might be in love already, so wrathful grows he—­

“Now, Ranald, it is true that I have set my mind on your wedding a maiden who is rich, and dowered with a coast town, and a good harbour, moreover, where you might keep all your ships under your own eye.  I would not have you disappoint me so soon.”

Then I said plainly,

“King Alfred, I am loth to do so.  But from the very first day that I set foot in England there has been one maiden whose ways have seemed to be bound up with my own, and I can wed none but her.  If it does not seem good to you that I should do so now, let me wait till times have grown easier between Saxon and Dane.  I think that you may know well that I shall fight none the worse for you if I must strive to win your consent.”